Dripping Wet
by God and the Fox
Summary: PWP. Johnlock shower sex.


John let himself relax under the hot water beating down his back. It had been a long day, and he was more than ready to unwind; a nice, steaming shower was exactly what he needed. He leaned his head back, wetting his hair thoroughly. He was just reaching for the shampoo bottle when he heard the bathroom door open and then shut. He paused.

"Sherlock? Is that you?"

"Well of course it's me. Who else would be coming into your bathroom?"

He sighed. "Sherlock, I'm taking a shower."

"Yes." Sherlock pulled the shower curtain open and John's mouth gaped open as he realized that his flat-mate was completely naked. Sherlock stepped into the shower, pushing past John so that he was standing under the stream of water.

"Sherlock."

"Hm?"

"_What_ are you doing?"

The detective glanced at him briefly. "Taking a shower. Obviously."

"You're in _my _shower. While I'm in it!"

"I can't use my shower. There's still acid in there from the experiment I conducted yesterday. If I stood in there I might cause myself serious burns."

John just stared at him. "You couldn't have waited until I was done?"

"I could have."

John waited for an elaboration, but none came. "Then why didn't you?" He was growing exasperated with the man.

"I wanted a shower now."

"Right." John turned his back and reached again for the shampoo. He lathered it into his hair, making sure to cover each of the strands thoroughly. Then he turned back to his friend. "Move, Sherlock. I need to rinse."

Sherlock complied, shifting so that John was under the water and Sherlock was against the wall. John ignored him and leaned his head back under the water, running his fingers through his hair to get all the shampoo out. He looked back up to see Sherlock staring at him.

"What?" Sherlock said nothing, but he continued to stare at John with his piercing gaze. "What is it?" After a moment, understanding dawned on John as he identified the look in Sherlock's eyes. "Oh. Oh." John knew that look. It was lust.

Without breaking eye contact, Sherlock reached down and grabbed the shampoo bottle that John had used only moments earlier. He deposited some of the liquid into his black curls, rubbing it in slowly, sensually. When he spoke, his voice was deeper than it had been earlier. "I need to rinse."

"Yeah." John moved out of the way and let his flat mate back under the spray of the water.

John stood mutely watching the detective rinse the shampoo out of his hair. Sherlock's fingers worked through his curls and John found himself wishing, not for the first time, that those could be his fingers instead. He let his gaze drop slightly to Sherlock's chest. Water ran down his skin in thick rivulets, tracing a path to the one place that John wouldn't allow himself to look just yet. Without a conscious decision he stepped forward and reached out toward his flatmate. His hand hovered in the air for only a moment before settling gently on the man's shoulder. His skin was soft, begging to be touched and John ran his fingers down Sherlock's shoulder and across his muscled chest reverently, focusing carefully on the way his skin seemed to heat up under the other man's touch.

John didn't allow himself to stop and think. Heat was coursing through his body and he knew it was only partially caused by the temperature of the water. He took another step forward until he was nearly flush with the other man. He leaned forward slightly and pressed his lips against Sherlock's throat directly under his jaw. Sherlock shuddered, but didn't make any move to stop him. John took this as approval and continued his ministrations. Without breaking contact, he licked a slow trail down the side of Sherlock's neck, savoring the taste that he had so often fantasized about. He move on downward to circle a pert nipple with his tongue before flicking the muscle quickly over it, drawing a stifled gasp from Sherlock. Their arousals brushed together with the most delicious friction.

"John."

The blond ignored him and pulled the tiny nub between his lips, sucking on it expertly.

"John." His voice was strained, more insistent now.

John pulled away and looked up at him. Both men's eyes were half-lidded and darkened with lust. Without another word, Sherlock grabbed John by the back of his neck and pulled him close, crushing their lips together in a frenzy of passion. John reacted swiftly, kissing him back with an equal fervor. He pressed his tongue insistently against his soon-to-be lover's lips, begging sweetly for entrance. Sherlock complied, opening his mouth quickly and John thrust his tongue inside. The man tasted of butterscotch and John explored his mouth thoroughly.

Sherlock subtly brought his hand down to cup John's arousal. John moaned into the detective's mouth at the unexpected contact and the two broke away from each other for air. Sherlock continued to palm his erection gently and John's breath hitched in his throat.

"Sherlock." His voice was breathless.

"Shh." He brought his lips down to John's uninjured shoulder, kissing there lightly before biting down on the bare skin. John hissed through his teeth, but made no move to stop his flat-mate. Sherlock made a fist around John's cock and began jerking him off slowly as his lips continued their descent. He repeated the kiss-bite pattern every inch down his chest and stomach until he was on his knees facing John's manhood. He leaned forward to let his breath caress it and John whimpered quietly with need.

Sherlock smiled to himself before taking just the head into his mouth. John inhaled sharply and grasped the black curls tightly. Sherlock moved his mouth down farther and began sucking, moving his fisted hand down to caress the bottom of the shaft where his mouth hadn't reached. Sherlock bobbed his head up and down slowly and John reached one hand blindly out toward the shower wall for support. Sherlock removed his hand and simultaneously relaxed his throat, taking John's member inside his mouth fully. He hummed around the base while letting his tongue lave against the length. John cried out at the intense stimulation. Sherlock pulled himself completely off.

John was nearly incoherent. "Sherlock, no, please."

"John."

The blond tried to pull Sherlock's head back again, desperate for his touch.

"John."

He stopped and looked down at him. Sherlock looked up at John from his knees, his eyes nearly closed and his voice heavy and breathy. "I want you inside me."

John groaned and pulled the detective up by his hair, spinning him around quickly so that his back was now facing him. Sherlock didn't complain and caught himself by pressing his hands against the wall. He spread his legs and angled himself so that his ass was sticking out, offering himself to the man behind him. John stared appreciatively at the sight before him, then brought his hands down to the perfectly rounded globes of Sherlock's ass. He massaged the area slightly before pressing a single digit against the puckered hole.

Sherlock was tight, but he relaxed himself enough that the finger was able to enter him easily. John closed his eyes, caught up in the way the other man felt around him. He was eager to find out exactly how that warmth would feel around other parts of him. He pushed a second finger in and began moving them in and out, scissoring them to stretch the waiting hole. When he met little resistance, he added a third finger. Sherlock gritted his teeth but welcomed the intrusion.

John pulled his fingers out and leaned forward so that his mouth was directly against the detective's ear. "Are you ready?"

Sherlock nearly whimpered, but forced himself to keep his composure. He didn't trust himself to speak and chose instead to nod his head.

John pressed himself against Sherlock's entrance gently, pushing into the man slowly but firmly. Sherlock let out a sharp breath of air as John seated himself completely, and they both paused, breath caught in their throats. Sherlock forced himself to breath out and press himself back against the man behind him. John took that as a cue and began to move inside the dark-haired man. His passage was slick with the water and the pleasure was greater than John had ever imagined. He moved slowly at first then increased his speed, ramming into Sherlock hard and ensuring that he had to keep his hands against the shower wall for balance.

John shifted his angle with the next thrust and Sherlock cried out in pleasure. His voice was suddenly filled with needy desperation. "Again."

John obliged him, striking that spot again and pressing Sherlock harder against the wall. Their coupling grew faster, frantic as they both neared completion. John brought a hand around Sherlock's body to grasp his arousal and jerked him off in time with the thrusts. Sherlock let go of his ever-present control and let himself moan, losing himself to the sensations. John closed his eyes again, savoring the sounds he was causing.

Sherlock pressed himself back against John's member, fucking himself on it just as much as John was fucking him. The rhythm was ragged but the two were in sync, perfectly joined together. John continued to hit Sherlock's prostate perfectly and the detective drew ever closer to the edge. His moans grew more breathy and he jerked, his come shooting itself all over John's fingers. His muscles clenched and John groaned as they squeezed his cock. He thrust inside the man a few more times before finishing, burying himself deeply inside Sherlock and filling him with come.

After a moment he pulled out and the two stood clinging to each other, gasping for breath. It was Sherlock who spoke first.

"Hey, John."

He opened one eye. "Mm?"

"There was never any acid."

John let that sink in for only a moment before bursting into laughter.


End file.
